When I was in the third grade in Englewood, New Jersey, newly arrived from India, a boy who sat behind me in class, Andre, got into the habit of asking me the same question every day: “Are you black or are you white?” It shocked me that he thought I could belong to either group when I felt so utterly foreign and out of place in America. “Neither,” I said. “I’m Indian.” But Andre would shake his head, refusing that answer. “I’m brown!” it finally occurred to me to say.

“No! No!” Andre seemed to find “brown” a bogus response too. Evasive. “You got to choose: Are you black? Or are you white?” It was 1969 and Andre was black and obviously aware of living in a divided society.

Atlanta writer Kathryn Stockett’s best-selling novel “The Help” takes us back a few years before that, to an even more insular and virulently segregated culture, Jackson, Mississippi, circa 1962. When a young white liberal college graduate, Skeeter Phelan, embarks on a mission to record the secret histories of black housekeepers, mainly to realize her career ambitions as a writer, the old servant-master relationship is difficult to overcome.

Stockett is astute in describing the profound psychological gap between blacks and whites — the haves and have-nots. When Skeeter arrives in the maid Aibileen’s all-black neighborhood, seeking an interview, Aibileen observes a child’s response to the white woman in their midst: “A red ball roll a few feet in my yard. The little Jones boy run across the street to get it. When he see Miss Skeeter, he stop dead. Then he run and snatch it up. He turn and dash off like he scared she gone get him.”

No violence is perpetrated, no threats made, no haughty gesture — just a frizzy-haired white girl appearing in the flesh where whites are never seen. But the boy’s response is imprinted with the fear of people used to being on the receiving end of white power and brutality. When Skeeter drives away in her grand Cadillac, Aibileen notes: “I just stay there, watch while she roll real slow down the road. The boys playing ball clear the street, stand on the side frozen, like it’s a funeral car passing by.”

Even if Stockett’s characters, as deeply felt as some of them are, are easily divided between good and bad — those to cheer for and those to boo — her writing is charmed with original metaphors and impressive mimicry. Whether or not you know voices like those of the two black maids who tell their own stories interspersed with Skeeter’s privileged life, you believe in them through their unique power of speech, brightened with comedy that gives the story mass appeal.

Stockett was recently on tour again, promoting “The Help” out west, and I had a chance to speak with her by phone. We chatted about her novel, the “New South,” and how the racial divide has evolved in her eyes.

PKH: Why has “The Help,” which is such a Southern book — rooted in the society of Jackson, Mississippi, in the 1960s — struck such a chord across the country?

Kathryn Stockett: You know, I have no idea. I don’t think there is any secret ingredient to fiction. I usually get one of two responses. Southerners will tell me, “Oh my gosh, I identify with this book because you wrote my childhood.” I brought back memories for them. Or if they’re from the Midwest or the North, they say they had no idea this was going on, and they felt like they got to peek through a window, looking at a time that they didn’t know existed. It’s one of two responses, and I don’t mean to categorize them as North and South. It’s just whether or not you grew up cognizant of this lifestyle or not.

PKH: Have you been traveling outside the U.S. for your book?

Kathryn Stockett: My European tour was canceled because of the volcano. It’s been rescheduled for June. I start in Holland, go to the U.K., and then go to Ireland. It’s about all I can handle right now.

PKH: You live in Atlanta now. How long have you been here and what brought you here?

Kathryn Stockett: I grew up in Mississippi. After college at the University of Alabama, I moved to New York and I was in New York for 16 years. That’s where I met my husband and had my daughter. We arrived in Atlanta coming up on three years now. We were used to a gentler lifestyle and we wanted to raise our child in the South. We’re so fortunate because we’re in a part of Atlanta where we have a racially diverse public school, and we’re thrilled that Lila is a part of that.

PKH: In your book you write about the Old South. Atlanta is considered a shining city of the New South. What’s your personal take on Atlanta society today? Do you find there is a lot of mixing between the races? And now there’s also a whole new component of immigrants in the South, in Atlanta.

Kathryn Stockett: I love it. It’s so diverse. It’s kind of transient. You’ve got the best of both here. You get people that are in and out. And people whose great-great grandparents have been here. It makes for an interesting society. It makes for interesting dinner parties for sure — the New Guard and Old Guard mixing together.

PKH: And what about in terms of race? Do you feel there is a lot of racial mixing here?

Kathryn Stockett: I’m not a sociologist and I’m not an anthropologist. We’re just an old liberal family. We don’t give it much thought. We just live our lives. And I don’t know that I’m qualified to answer that question.

PKH: One thing I admire about your book is that, though it’s a social comedy in part, it tackles the issue of race pretty frankly. For instance, the young white heroine, Skeeter, recalls playing with two black children as a girl, saying, “They were so black I couldn’t tell them apart and called them both just Mary.” This is not a politically correct thing for a white person to say. But it seems an honest admission of what a white child might have felt, perhaps influenced by her elders’ ideas about black people. And yet, in American society there appears to be a reluctance to look at race. For instance, the British edition of your book has a picture of two black nannies and a little white child on the cover. The American book cover shows three birds perched on a line. You wouldn’t guess from the picture of birds that your book has anything to do with race. Do you think America has really confronted the racial issue? Could the British cover have been used in America?

Kathryn Stockett: Americans are not comfortable talking about race. The U.K. was able to put a much more racially cognizant cover on because they’re not so sensitive about the subject, as I understand it. And they’re also talking about someone else. You know what I mean? We’re very self-conscious about the subject. If we were talking about the racism of, say, India, then maybe we could have put something relevant on the cover. They picked a cover [for the U.S. edition] that had absolutely nothing to do with the book. And I think they did it on purpose.

COMMENTS

COMMENTS

Yep, the first heart transplant from a strong, young, 20-something black man who “died” to an old white South African man…something for white South Africans to really be proud of.

Susan GraveJul 01

Well, having been born, brought up, and still live in Southern Africa, I enjoyed the book. It evoked many memories, and also having lived in USA in 68/69 I could also see how others were treated. I’d like to make a comment of her saying “the first heart transplant” – actually the first heart transplant was done in South Africa in 1967. Perhaps she should read up on history before publishing.

m johnsonJun 10

I really enjoyed the book. I think what people have to remember is it’s fiction. I’ve heard talk of Uncle Tom’s Cabin and other novels like that. I’ve never read that book or any of the others mentioned and don’t know who Mamie or Mammie was. Me? I don’t see race. I see what’s inside a person. To me, evveryone is different. Black, white, red, green eyes, brown eyes, heavy, skinny, short, tall. It’s the inside that counts. I loved the book bc I fell in love with. Aibilene and Minnie. I was so proud Minnie finally had the courage to leave her abusive husband! I hope that part giVes other women in an abusive relationship courage to leave no matter what color they are! In those circumstances we should all cheer for and help women! I’ve also heard talk that some don’t like the dialect given to Aibileen and the other maids, that it’s not correct. Well I have no idea if it’s correct but I liked the way they talked. Not everyone has to ‘speak perfectly’. And who cares if it’s correct? It’s fiction. But I loved Minnie best and all the maids. If they were white I would still love them. If they were Japanese I would still love them. I love them for their beautiful hearts

ElizabethSep 22

A year ago, I attended Kathryn Stockett’s presentation re: “The Help” at a book fair in Nashville. Her presentation was held in one of the larger rooms to accommodate a large audience. Though I probably could not see every face in the room, I’m pretty certain there were no African Americans present. I suspect that “O’s” thoughtful comment above reflects the views of both African Americans and whites.

I grew up in the south and can remember asking my parents why their wealthy friend’s “help” consisting of a butler, a cook and two maids worked on Christmas day for her party rather than spend the important day with their own families. It seemed everyone pretended that the “help” loved being there.

My personal problem with “The Help” is that Skeeter felt victimized by the isolation of her Junior League friends. She was so alone in her work and attitude. In reality, the protagonist was practicing her own form of discrimination. Surely, in the 1960s Jacksonville there were smart young women who would have jumped at the chance to support Skeeter in her effort. But Skeeter didn’t seem to look further than her country club and junior league friends as if young middle class white women weren’t an social option. Skeeter may have been sensitive to racial discrimination but clearly she was clueless when it came to class discrimination.

The few women I’ve talked with about the book did seem uncomfortable taking with me about it. They easily voiced their love of the book but squirmed at engaging in meaningful conversation about it with me. If it is possible I would love to hear more about responses from the book. Several from our group have begun the “uncomfortable conversation” and want to to have it count for increased understanding in the spirit of Acts 17:26.

Our group will meet this Wednesday August 11 to discuss your book. Please respond with any comments you feel would be helpful to us.
Blessings,
Anne

ParulJun 16

I don’t think black voices of dissent should “wait it out,” they should make themselves heard wherever and whenever they can. No one will provide a forum to dissenters–that rarely happens–for that they must take the initiative where they can. I think you make some very valid points and I’m glad you expressed them here.

OJun 16

“Americans are not comfortable talking about race”

No. Some WHITE Americans are not comfortable talking about race.
But many of them certainly love this book, even though many African Americans (myself included) have objected to the broad Southern dialect and made up words “Law” for “Lord” that Abileen uses) and the lack of a southern accent ro venacular by the white characters.
Its as if Jimmy Carter, Bill Clinton and other prominent Southerners never
remotely sounded like they were from the South.
And that’s but one problem with the novel.

The other problem is the stereotypical characters of Abileen and Minnie,
two caricatures of black women that some writers seems to love.

Abileen is the stoic, suffering in silence, with loyalty bordering on martrydom maid. Minnie is Prissy re-incarnate (Prissy from Gone with the Wind) by the author’s own description, she’s loud, sassy, cracks jokes and can’t keep a job because of her mouth. This is a popular image that as used in movies during the 30’s until the 70s, and on various US sit-coms. All that’s lacking is the hand on the hip and roll of the neck.

Unfortunately, since no one bothered to find out from real African Americans why many object to the book, it will be some time before The Help lands among other “classics” like Uncle Tom’s Cabin and even “The Three Little Golliwogs”. Until then, black voices of dissent will have to wait it out, until the rest of the world realizes the book they crowned “authentic” is anything but.